Match Maker | T. Swift x OC

Capítulo Doce

Unpopular opinion: Bleachella slayed. If bleachella had 0 fans, I'm dead.

Also, guys heyyyy how are you

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May, 2019

The release of ME! had been taken well globally and Taylor was beyond excited. Though to be honest, she would have been more excited if her girlfriend hadn't needed to rush home and they could've celebrated together in person and not over FaceTime.

Taylor wasn't a particularly jealous person, but when it came to Mallory? And even more so when it came to Mallory ditching her in LA for the girls she's loved before. It wasn't like she needed Mallory with her, but she wanted her. Maybe that made her selfish because she was 95% sure that Mallory's friends actually needed her, but she didn't care.

She was pretty sure she could see the Angel on her shoulder rolling their eyes and hear the devil laughing at her predicament.

Maybe she just had some sort of abandonment issues that needed looking into because Mallory had only been gone two weeks and they had FaceTimed every day of the fortnight. And even though Mallory had made her wonder who could ever leave her, she also made her wonder who could stay.

After all, Mallory had already left once before.

Before Taylor knew it, it was midnight, and then it was three am and her pacing around her bedroom. To her, her feet had burnt holes into the ground, filling the room with invisible smoke that she was choking on.

It had just gone 3:30 when Taylor plucked up the courage to confide her fear in Mallory. Tears had long since dried on her face as she regulated her breathing whilst the line rang.

"Yello?" Mallory's cheery voice greeted. Before Taylor could respond, she continued, "Isn't it like 3 in the morning in LA?" Taylor waited as Mallory went to check her clock app, "Why are you awake? Do you want me to stay on the phone until you fall back asl-"

"Mal," Taylor finally cut her off, voice groggy. "Are you going to leave me again? Is that... Is that why you went to London?"

The brunette paused for a second as she let Taylor's words sink in. When they did, they hit like a bullet. "No. God, no. Taylor, I am not leaving you. I am never leaving you."

"But you already have. I just- Never again, right?"

"Never," Mallory agreed with a heavy heart.

All of this because she had trusted the wicked, wounding the good.

"Do you want me to come back?"

Taylor sniffled, Mallory found herself booking a plane ticket. "I'm sorry," Taylor whispered, "I'm being a big baby."

"You're not," Mallory shook her head, "Your feelings are valid, Taylor. I'm sorry for not seeing them sooner. I shouldn't have left."

When Mallory got to LA the next day, Taylor threw her arms around Mallory immediately after she opened the door. The brunette flinched slightly, but still hugged Taylor back nevertheless. Whilst she wasn't there yet when it came to being entirely comfortable with physical contact, she was getting there.

Mallory grappled with her discomfort around physical contact, especially knowing that it was Taylor's primary love language. She was naturally more reserved when it came to physical affection, and being touched often made her feel vulnerable and anxious. It wasn't that she didn't care for Taylor or didn't want to express her love; it was simply a deeply ingrained aspect of her personality.

Taylor, on the other hand, thrived on physical touch. She found comfort and security in holding hands, hugging, and being close to Mallory. It was her way of feeling connected and reassured in their relationship. She had grown up in an environment where affectionate touch was abundant, and she associated it with love and safety. Taylor couldn't help but feel a little hurt and rejected when Mallory recoiled or tensed up during their attempts at physical contact.